


Find Your Anchor

by TheChronicLiar



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Fanfic of comic, Gen, Grief, Guilt, anchor, platonic, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-08-28
Packaged: 2018-04-17 15:47:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4672322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheChronicLiar/pseuds/TheChronicLiar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the fire, Derek is distraught when he meets a stubborn little boy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Find Your Anchor

So, I saw [this comic](http://torakodragon.tumblr.com/post/41247728189/so-what-if-after-the-hale-fire-i-dont-know) the other day and I thought. Yes. Must write. Cause it was cute and I liked it a lot. This is the original artist, [torakodragon](http://torakodragon.tumblr.com/), go check out their stuff. I suggest reading the comic before reading this to give yourself an idea of what this is about.

 

Find Your Anchor

                Laura’s hand clenched tightly at his as they sat outside the emergency burn unit. It was still unknown if Peter would even survive the night because of the extent of the burns. When they had finally found his body he was already half chard and barely breathing. He was the only survivor. The only heart they could hear down in the basement. The police that met them at the hospital said that the firefighters were searching for any other survivors, but they both knew there was no one else. Everyone else was dead.

                Derek’s hand contracted painfully around Laura’s before he could stop himself. He instantly tried to pull his hand back, but Laura wouldn’t have it. She squeezed just as tightly back and curled up next to him on the bench. Her normal scent flooded his nose, but most of it was covered by the pungent smell of ash and burning flesh.

                “It’s alright, Derek,” she whispered.

                He nodded weakly, not believing a word she said.

                “We’ll be alright,” she insisted.

                Her heart skipped.

                And apparently she didn’t believe herself either. He could smell the tears before they started to stream down her face. She didn’t bother to wipe them away with her hands, but instead rubbed her face into his shirt, leaving her with even more ash on her face before plopping her head back on his shoulder.

                Rolling his eyes, he shuffled around until he could put his head on hers. “Cry if you want.” His voice was rough from not being used for so long.

                She shook her head, joisting his as she did so. “I’ll dehydrate if I cry anymore,” she weakly joked. They had cried a lot at this point. Derek’s face was stiff from tears and ash. They both were covered in ash, dirt and blood. Even their clothes were torn and singed. They looked like hell.

                “Ms. Hale?” was softly called out, jerking them both in surprise. Neither had noticed the officer come up to them. The officer looked to be in his mid-thirties and had a little boy swinging off his pants’ leg with a small stuffed animal tucked under his arm. Wide whiskey brown eyes focused solely on Derek as the boy smiled widely at him.

                Laura straightened as she gave the officer a strained smile. “Yes officer…?”

                “Stilinski,” the officer provided. “I’m sorry to disturb you, but I was hoping to get your statement about what had happened last night.” The man looked as tired as they did. Derek remember him from last night. He was one of the first officers to meet them at the hospital. He was the one that allowed them to remain unquestioned for so long.

                “Of course,” Laura agreed. She slipped her hand out of Derek’s and patted his knee. “I’ll be right back.” She gave him a small smile before standing up and following Officer Stilinski.

                Derek frowned as she left him there. Officer Stilinski took her to the end of the hallway before they started to speak. Their hushed voices were easy enough to hear from here. Dragging his eyes away from the pair, he instead stared down at his now empty hand. It felt vacant and the faint feeling of burning echoed across his palm. Clenching his fist, he tried to ignore the feeling of his skin splitting from the fire.

                A small hand waved in front of his face, making his eyes dart up to the boy standing in front of him. The pain in his hand momentarily forgotten. “Hi!” he said cheerfully, smiling even brighter than before.

                Blinking slowly, Derek looked away toward Laura and the officer.

                “I’m Stiles!” the kid continued.

                Derek carried on with ignoring him. Maybe if he was silent long enough, the kid would grow bored and leave. Laura was telling Officer Stilinski how they ‘found’ Peter near the house.

                “I’m eight.”

                He could see the kid swaying back and forth on the heels of his feet from the corner of his eye. The officer didn’t seem to believe her fully, but he didn’t question her further.

                “What’s your name?”

                Closing his eyes, Derek leaned back against the bench to focus more on Laura’s voice, but it became hard when he could still feel the boy’s eyes on him as he waited for an answer that he wasn’t about to get. The officer was already telling her what they already knew. There were no other survivors. There was still a pang in hearing that, but there was nothing surprising about it. A small part of him hoped that someone got away, but no one did.

                “I know you’re not sleeping,” the boy announced. Apparently blatantly ignoring the boy wasn’t about to deter him. “You’re not even very good at it.”

                Derek bit back a growl and crossed his arms over his chest. “Good thing I’m not pretending to sleep,” he grumbled, peaking to see _Stiles_ smirking smugly at him. _That little shit_. He was purposely getting him to talk. “I’m just ignoring you instead,” Derek continued with a glare.

                The boy gaped at him before pouting. His cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk as he seethed at Derek. A smile started to form before he could stop it. He quickly wiped it off his face, berating himself. It was not a time to smile and he shouldn’t pick on kids. Even if they are brats.

                “Well, you’re not very good at ignoring me either,” Stiles retorted and stuck his tongue out.

                Derek scoffed and went back to ignoring the kid to prove a point. He’s great at ignoring. He’s done it toward his family all the time and succeeded. This kid was probably just like his cousins so it shouldn’t be that hard. Maybe he can talk his mother into letting Stiles play with the kids. He was pretty sure they would get along. They’d probably even… They’re gone. What is he even talking about? A new wave of pain hit him as he tightened his arms around himself.

                A small hand tugged at his arm. He looked down to see Stiles staring back, worriedly. “You’re crying.”

                He hadn’t even notice he was crying again. He tore his eyes away from the boy’s and stared up at the ceiling. The feeling of the tears were uncomfortable and unwelcomed. Blinking furiously, he fought back the tears. He tried to focus on the talking around him. That was until black fake fur was shoved into his face and partially up his nose. Stiles at some point had climbed onto the bench beside him and decided to have his stuff animal get close with Derek’s face. Derek glared at the offending stuffy, recognizing that it was a wolf and that the wolf was surprisingly glaring back. “What are you doing?” he muffled through the fur. It tickled his nose with every movement.

                Stiles’ face was taunt as he pulled back the stuffed animal. “You shouldn’t hold back your feelings like that. It’s not healthy,” he told him. He turned away and plopped down on the bench. His legs swung back and forth as he hugged the wolf tightly to his chest. “Crying is good,” he mumbled barely above a whisper as if he didn’t believe it fully himself.

                Derek swallowed as guilt edged at him as he looked at the kid. He didn’t know what that was about, but he looked hurt. “Yeah,” he said dryly. “It’s good to cry.”

                Nodding sagely, the boy leaned into Derek. “Mom says it’s not good to bottle things up,” he went on.

                “I guess it isn’t,” Derek agreed.

                “She also says you should talk about it.” With that, Stiles looked up at him expectantly.

                “No.” He wasn’t about to talk about his feelings to some kid he doesn’t even know.

                Unfortunately, Stiles continued to look at him expectantly. “I’m not talking to you about my feeling,” Derek grounded out after a minute of Stiles staring at him.

                Stiles huffed and got down. His little legs moved him quickly in between Derek’s. The wolf stuffy was held out between them as Stiles stared at him stubbornly. “Talk to him then,” he said as he wiggled the wolf.

                “Stiles,” Derek started, but when the boy started to glare, he kept his words to himself.

                “Mom says talking helps, even if it’s not people. That’s why she gave me my wolf so I can have someone to talk to no matter what,” Stiles explained. “He can help you figure out how you’re feeling and doesn’t tell secrets. So tell him.”

                Derek coughed awkwardly as he looked around. He glanced down the hall for his sister to see she had disappeared at some point. Groaning, he turned back to Stiles with a sigh. Was there any way out of this? Probably not. “I can’t exactly talk to someone who doesn’t have a name,” he tried.

                Stiles looked momentarily surprised about that before going into deep thought. His face scrunched up as he tried to think of a reply.

                “He does have a name, doesn’t he?” Derek asked softly. He didn’t want to insult the kid because he didn’t have a name for his stuffed animal.

                “Yeah, he has a lot of names,” Stiles murmured. “But that’s not how it works.” His tone held a bit of a whine as he pouted. “You’re supposed to tell him what you feel and the biggest feeling is his new name until you feel better.”

                That…that was weird, but this is coming from a kid who’s name is Stiles, so of course there had to be more weird stuff about the boy. “Why is that?”

                Stiles shifted back and forth on his feet. “Cause…feelings come in stages till you get better,” he said, not fully understanding his own words from the sound of it, but there was no doubt in him.

                Stages? What did he mean by that? Derek was about to ask when it hit him. Oh. “Stiles, why are you here?” he asked.

                Stiles frowned before smiling widely. “I’m here to see mom. Dad had to come down here anyways so we’re going to visit her after he’s done.”

                God, could he feel more like an ass? At least the names thing made a bit more sense.

                “Are you going to speak to him yet?” Stiles asked, growing impatient. The wolf was held up closer to his face.

                Derek sighed and pushed the wolf down. “Alright. I’ll do it, just stop putting him in my face,” he caved. Stiles practically vibrated in delight. “So what do you want me to say?” he asked, playing along. What could it hurt?

                “You have to tell him what you are feeling. We got to figure out his name,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

                “Right.” Taking a deep breath, he started to think. What was he feeling? There were so many emotions conflicting within him. “I’m…I’m feeling a lot of thing. I’m sad, hurt.” He felt used and empty. Guilty. Tired. He felt that a lot. “I-I feel angry, more than anything,” he whispered truthfully.

                Stiles nodded vehemently. “That’s one of the stages!” He moved closer to Derek and placed the stuffy on his chest. “He’s anger now,” he stated. “Tell him why you’re angry.”

                Why wasn’t he angry? He was used by someone he thought loved him. He got his family killed. The only person they were able to save probably won’t make it. Laura now has to take care of them both and she should already be packing to go to college. He’s screwing up her life and he’s the cause of everyone’s deaths. He’s just some idiot that couldn’t keep it in his pants and went after the first person that showed any interest in him and used him cause he couldn’t see the obvious signs. He was lied to, constantly, and he couldn’t see it. “There’s too many,” he found himself whispering.

                That’s when he felt arms wrap around him. “It’s okay,” Stiles mumbled as he squeezed him tightly. “You don’t have to say everything now. Until you can, get lots of hugs. That’s what mom says. Best medicine.”

                Derek couldn’t help but stare down at the boy as he squished the stuffed animal between them with his boney arms. He uncrossed his arms and wrapped them awkwardly around Stiles, unsure of what to do.

                “You suck at giving hugs too,” Stiles teased.

                Snorting, Derek hugged Stiles tightly to him, squeezing out a startled giggle. Stiles didn’t try to pull away so neither did Derek. It felt nice. They stayed like that for what felt like hours until Derek could hear Laura and the officer heading their way. Derek pulled back and Stiles was still latched onto him. “Stiles?”

                The boy’s eyes popped wide open before jumping away. He stumbled, tripping over his feet and almost face planted if Derek hadn’t caught him by his arm. Stiles grinned his thanks and picked up the stuff animal. “Do you feel better?” Curiosity and concern was evident all over his face.

                Strangely enough, he did. “A little.”

                The smile that overtook Stiles’ face was blinding. He went to say something when he was cut off by the officer calling for him down the hallway.

                “Coming!” Stiles yelled back. He looked at Derek for a moment, silent, before he spoke. “What’s your name?”

                “Derek.”

                Stiles nodded. “I like that name.”

                “Thanks.” Derek nearly smiled. The boy shuffled his feet in front of him.

                “STILES!” the officer called out again.

                Stiles huffed. He grasped the wolf tightly as he walked up to Derek and placed it in his lap. “Anger’s yours now,” Stiles stated.

                The thoughts of the boy’s mother promptly came to mind. “Stiles, I can’t. Don’t you need this?”

                Stiles vehemently shook his head. “Nope! Mom’s going to get better and you need it more than I do.”

                “Stiles,” Derek began as he held out the stuffy.

                Stiles jumped back. “No.”

                “Stiles,” he growled, about to get up and force the boy to take it if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

                As if he knew what Derek was thinking, Stiles sprinted down the hall and pass Laura. “BYE DEREK! TAKE CARE OF ANGER!” And he ran toward the officer from earlier. The man picked him up and Stiles looked back at him and stuck his tongue out as they walked away. Brat.

                “What was that about?” Laura asked as she stepped up to him.

                “Kid wouldn’t take back his stupid stuffy,” Derek replied sourly as he slouched against the bench.

                Laura snickered. It was the first real, good, emotion that he’s seen from her. It was enough to make him feel even lighter. “Sounds like the kid has a crush on you.”

                Derek rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” They were joking, even after everything that happened. It almost made him believe things would get better.

                He had planned on giving the stuffed animal back to Stiles after things settled, but with setting Peter up and dealing with the investigation and insurance people, there was not even enough time to even think. The stuffed wolf went with them to New York. The damn thing was still in Derek’s suitcase even now back in Beacon Hills. He couldn’t force himself to throw it away. He’s had every chance to give back the stuffed animal, but the kid was still such a brat.

~~Plus Anger was his stuffy.~~

 

Extra:

Stiles looked at the wolf in his hands with a fond smile. “So, did you ever name him anything else?” he asked, curious.

Derek shrugged. He really hadn’t, but Stiles didn’t need to know that. “Yeah. Named him Grumpy.”

Stiles barked out a laugh. “That makes a lot of sense, coming from the sourwolf himself!”

Derek shoved him slightly, a smirk growing on his face.


End file.
